revival

It wasn’t supposed to be the two of you. You’d volunteered to walk Cinnamon after dinner, and Jungkook had wordlessly grabbed his jacket to join you. That was half an hour ago. You should have already headed back, but you needed this moment of silence to recharge. You’re grateful Jungkook didn’t mind the silence either, only interjecting with brief comments towards Cinnamon. But you could still feel his eyes on you, golden gaze a blaze on the back of your head.

“You don’t have to keep me company, you know,” you say, shoving your hands into your coat pockets. “I’ve done the dog walk duty before.”

Jungkook huffs, his breath visible in the cool air. “I know. I just didn’t want you walking alone in the dark.”

You glance over at him—hood pulled up, hands deep in his pockets, his hair falling into his eyes—and you can’t help the way something soft stirs in your chest. “Chivalrous,” you tease.

He gives a faint smile. “Old habits.”

There’s a comfortable silence that follows, filled only by the faint crunch of leaves underfoot and Cinnamon’s small collar bell. It’s been like this lately—easier. Less of the lingering awkwardness from that disastrous blind date. You’d both laughed it off the morning after, calling it a weird coincidence and pretending it meant nothing. But you have noticed how the two of you have begun floating around each other; how he sits your coffee mug out every morning, how there’s now typically a little sweet treat waiting on the counter for you after work or the fact that when you’ve found him watching his nature documentaries you’ve slid into the couch beside him, feigning interest on the migration route of red knot birds.

“How’s work going?” Jungkook asks after a moment, his voice low, almost hesitant. “You’ve got a new wedding client right?

“Busy,” you answer, sighing. “Always busy. I swear, wedding planning is just organized chaos. Half of my job is putting out fires. But at least the client is great, this bride is more understanding than most.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Jungkook returns. Cinnamon’s bounding around his legs, jumping forward to bump her nose against his open palm before capering off. The smile pulling at his rosy lips makes your chest tight.

“It is. But I like it.” You pause. “Most days.”

He nods, eyes shifting towards the lake. “I get that.”

You watch his profile for a moment, the curve of his jaw lit by the faint porch lights in the distance. “And you? You’ve been coming home late lately.”

“Yeah.” He kicks at a stray pinecone. “Deadlines. Projects. My boss thinks sleep is a myth.”

You laugh under your breath. “You’re both masochists, then.”

That earns you a real smile, small but genuine. It lingers longer than it should—his gaze flicking toward you for a moment too long, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

You shift your weight, suddenly aware that you’ve stopped walking, standing still just inches from him. “You know,” you start, voice quieter now, “I still think it’s funny we went on that date.”

He glances at you, eyes dark under his hood. “Funny how?”

“Just…” You hesitate, words fogging in the air between you. “Of all people, it had to be you.”

“Yeah.” His voice is a murmur now. “Of all people.”

Something hangs between you—heavy, invisible, alive. His gaze finds yours, and you can’t look away. For a moment, the world seems to narrow down to this single strand of tension, fragile and thrumming. The reflection of the lake wavers in his eyes, the wind threading through his brown hair. There’s a curl out of place, your fingertips itch with the need to push it back in place.

“You ever think…” Jungkook starts, then stops. His throat works as he swallows. “You ever think maybe some things aren’t coincidences?”

Your breath catches. “Sometimes.”

The silence stretches, elastic and charged. You’re both standing too still, too close, Your bodies aren’t pressed together but it’s like you can feel his heartbeat pounding along yours, not quite in sync, but overlapping each other in a maddening effort to be.

A soft rumble of thunder rolls from the distance. Neither of you move.

You watch his gaze flutter down to your lips, and that’s when the first drop of rain hits the space between you—sharp and cold, splashing against your joined shadows. Then another and another and another.

You blink up at the sky, feeling the drizzle scatter across your cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you murmur, but your voice wavers, because it feels like the rain broke more than just the quiet—it broke the delicate tether that hung between the two of you.

Jungkook’s lips curve, not quite a smile. “We should head back before it gets worse.”

You nod, but your feet don’t move. Neither do his.

Behind Jungkook, Cinnamon barks—a single sharp sound that pulls your attention just in time to see her small body disappearing into the tree line, golden tail vanishing into the storm-dark woods.